Pamela's School Days

Patience (not a virtue of mine)

For foreigners settling in here, things happen in a particular order (one of the few times when one feels a Germanic influence). I have violated this order, in a bank's agreeing to open an account for me, based on two letters from the University on my behalf. The bank told me that I'd have what I needed in two weeks, in the mail (this Friday is two weeks). One must have a bank account in order to:

* Pay bills (cash is not accepted)
-- Pay overdue utility bills, so one can have wireless at home, not to mention a landline
* Get insurance, both for health and house
* Avoid paying cash for everything!

Normally, we foreigners aren't permitted to open bank accounts until we pass 'go' at the Town Hall for our residence permits (my appointment is ''soon'' -- 29th August, made two weeks ago), and in my case, also become fully registered at the University. While I completely agree with tight control of bank accounts (no money laundering here), being visibly honest and upright is wearing very thin. I've had to postpone a key medical appointment twice, since I still don't have insurance. I know that I will look back on this period with amusement, but it's very frustrating right now. (And one has to do the Town Hall registration for a residence permit annually!)

No solution yet to the tiny piles of dirt, which appeared again this morning in the rear garden, after the deluge last night. Worms were suggested, but I haven't seen any.

I don't think I've mentioned one of Leiden's municipal contributions to Rembrandt's 400th birthday year (he was born here, in 1606). Throughout the city, affixed to sides of large buildings in the same style as trampolines are laced to their frames, are enormous reproductions of quite a few of Rembrandt's paintings. It's thrilling to round a corner, or come down a bridge and see a beautiful, enormous reproduction of one of his pictures. When I visited the ''Hortus'' last week, just at the entrance is one called "Saskia as Flora''. Saskia was his wife, and she's holding a staff that's covered in flowers, and wearing a large hat, made all of flowers. The reproduction is about 20' high, by about 10 feet across -- very large. I had forgotten the very high quality of Dutch printing, publishing, graphic design (stamps are amazing) and other visuals. For a country as tiny as this is, the culture is extremely refined and organized.

Another ''visual'' is the poems that are painted onto walls around the city. They actually are (I think) stencilled, so that it looks as if someone has used the wall as a piece of paper. They're beautifully done, and one stops to read the poems (although I have yet to be able to translate any of them). They're done by (I assume) the city, and not in any way as graffiti (of which I've seen none).

Yet another clever visual is how many ground-level windows are treated with a sort of frosting, for privacy's sake, so that one sees the eye-level part of the window as sort of etched, which doesn't keep out any light, but gives privacy to the inhabitants. I've also seen beautiful etching in vertical floral patterns, on my luxe neighbors' rear windows. This ''frosting'' is new to me since I lived here in the '70s.

Food (again). My dinners at home so far have been stir-fries. My little supermarket has lots of pre-packaged sliced/chopped/minced veggies and labels them as Asian, Mexican, Indonesian-style, etc. It's mostly the same veggies (onions, bell peppers, leeks, cabbage, sprouts), but cut differently. It's all healthy and quick to prepare.

"Tasty Toms''!!! Very important. My Amsterdam landlady's daughter's husband, Onno (who's a food journalist here and has authored food books, but is still lollygagging with Juliette and Charlotte (wife and daughter)) in France, alerted me to these wonderful small tomatoes when I stayed with them in April. They're the size of large golf balls and perfectly ripe and delectable -- the best I've ever tasted.

The BBC World News: Ah! I always chafed at Washington's coverage of world news (they shouldn't have bothered), so it's a daily joy to listen to the BBC and hear coverage from countries I barely know to exist. It's a double joy to hear of whatever Bush is up to, through the distance and perspective of people outside the U.S. I've only had to explain to one person so far that "I didn't vote for him!'', fortunately. It appears a given here that he's a joke, but still. This all said, the coverage of opening football (soccer) matches around the world over the weekend was suffocating. I was thrilled to hear that wiretapping and other governmental prying has been called unconstitutional by a judge.

And the weather (you know you're done, when the weather comes up) is LOVELY, except when it rains, which occurs at some point, nearly every day. Think of San Francisco on a bright, breezy day. It's perfect weather. I love it. The temperature range is about 55-70. I don't even mind the rain, much. Last night, on the way home, I got soaked, having left the trusty rain poncho at home, but never again.

'bye for now. Someone, please, figure out the tiny piles of dirt after heavy rain thing. They're very neatly done and truly are dirt (I moved one today, to see).

Pamela